ocean sky—no sun—no ozone—wider still like a mouth
swallowing little blue pill-planet, little dot. Only you

know how we got here slow and deliberate, like creation turning
to ash—no phoenix—inevitable tumbling. Like the sun

braiding her core with the night, like the sun braiding her core
with iron and cold, cold blue, we become shadow.

Amanda Stovicek is a poet from Northeast Ohio made of star stuff. Her work has appeared in 45th Parallel, Ghost City Review, POTLUCK Magazine, and elsewhere. You can find her at amstovicek.com or on Twitter @amae099.